


A Little History Lesson

by dtbookworm



Category: The Dark Pictures: Man of Medan (Video Game)
Genre: Aftermath, Brad being nerdy, F/M, Friendship, Hamilton References, Julia surprisingly nerding out with him, You've heard of George Washington, reassurance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:21:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22503949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dtbookworm/pseuds/dtbookworm
Summary: Late at night, Brad notices that Julia's concerned about her love life with Alex. It's up to Brad to reassure her. And what better way to do it then to tell her of George Washington. Hey, it's worth a shot.
Relationships: Julia & Brad Smith (Dark Pictures)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	A Little History Lesson

**Author's Note:**

> Brad being absolutely adorkable, along with Julia....Yeah, they're going to be the best of friends.

Brad willed himself to sleep. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to let the rocking of his hammock lull him to a deeper stage of relaxation that would finally send him to REM land. But _nothing_ could ease the young man's mind. After what he _saw_ , after what he'd been through, after what they've been through, he couldn't find peace in the darkness that ensued when his eyes closed. Each time they fluttered closed, he saw decrepit bodies, their ribs bulging against their taut mid sections like Freddy Krueger's hands pushing through Nancy Thompson's bedroom wall. He saw broken jawlines, mice burrowing through long ago bodies like their own personal tunnels. Oh, yeah, and it didn't ease his turmoil whenever he thought of Olson getting cut in half like chopped celery when they were wrestling over the distributor cap.

Brad knew that if he hesitated, if he didn't move out of the way in time, if he didn't push Olson off of him, he would've been their right alongside him. He shuddered at the thought of lying next to Olson, staring into his false pearl colored eye before completely losing consciousness. And being stranded on that massive, floating graveyard of a ship that made the Titanic look like a lovely underground city of Atlantis? Nope. He didn't want to think what would happen then. Manchurian Gold. Yeah. A _fan-fucking-tastic_ find.

Giving up on sleep, Brad sat up. The windows let in streams of milky moonbeams that reflected off glass dragon eyes that hung from the ceiling and unbranded purple, green, and orange bottle glasses on the shelves of the adjacent wall. The fan in the shape of scalloped leaves spun lazily above him, though it did nothing to help cool the straw built hut. Rubbing his arms, Brad could _still_ feel goosebumps. He needed some air, to get out of this suffocating hut. He doubted that the outside weather would be just as humid, but it beats tossing and turning.

Brad nearly tumbled out of the hammock after catching his toe in of the loops. On the other side of the wall, lying on his stomach, Conrad snored. He didn't look comfortable _exactly_ , what with his arm dangling over the side and his other over his head. He was facedown on his pillow. Upon closer inspection, Brad saw that he had cradled a beer before sleep caught him. The contents of it were dripping out now, long ago spilling onto the hardwood floor. The first thing Brad would do as his soon to be brother in law would be to tell Conrad the ramifications of drinking too much. Even after a royally, fucked up night walking _barefoot_ over the metal graveyard, it wouldn't help.

He crept over and righted the beer. Then, with quiet footsteps, he skulked out of the hut.

The night sky, as opposed to the one hours earlier that circulated storm clouds and made for the cast of _Shutter Island_ , gleamed and twinkled around the gibbous moon. Across the open waters, the horizon was barely discernible against the still sea. It resembled a closed eye hiding light from entering this side of the world, bathing the surrounding huts as well as the coast in a penumbra that made Brad feel like he was walking through space. Stars above and below him easing some of the horrors he witnessed. _Some._

He walked along the pier, hands in his pockets. The huts, similarly built like the one he shared with Conrad, were dark, only the individual straws fluttering in the wind. It was awesome that Fliss insisted on bringing them here to rest before the flight home which was in three days. After all, they were _still_ on vacation and they never really got a chance to explore French Polynesia ands all its lush landscapes ad palm trees. But whether that was out of generosity or the fear of being left alone, Brad couldn't tell it. He knew Fliss was a strong woman. Hell, even when they were held captive, she remained stoic, her attitude faltering not once under their guns and their harsh French words. But after today, he wondered how durable humans were, how quick they were to crumble before regaining the little composure they had left.

The planks under his feet were slightly damp-he could feel grains of sand and splinters of would grazing against his feet. "Geez" he said to himself, lifting his leg to flick off sand and wood clippings. "What in the hell was I thinking? Walking around barefoot on that goddamn ship." The thought of the number of tetanus shots he would receive from even setting a toe on that ship made Brad shudder. He wasn't an idiot. He knew you couldn't get tetanus from rusted metal. Still, the preconceived notions of getting it from ionized metal didn't ease his mind.

"I'm still wondering that myself," a feminine voice said. Brad shot his head up quickly, enough force for his glasses to slide down the bridge of his nose. Leaning against the railing with her arms crossed over each other, Julia looked across the water.

Straightening up and fixing his glasses, Brad cleared his throat. "Julia. Hey. How uh-how's it going?"

Julia turned around and crossed her arms. A half smirk, half grimace, accompanied by a quirked eyebrow, made her look like a waned mother. "Oh, you know. Just reeling after traumatic events that I'll probably need years of therapy to get over." She shrugged her shoulders. "But, you know-that's life for ya."

Brad scratched his neck in embarrassment. "Ah. Right. Of course. The night we've had was," he inhaled, then exhaled in a shakiness that he tried to make sound deliberate, "rrrrriveting." 

"Mm hmm." Fearing that he would be blocking the path, even though they were the only two souls still awake, Brad joined her in leaning against the railing. Below them, the water sloshed against the support beams, the mist sprinkling their toes and sprinkling their faces. Julia's face was beaded with its droplets, concluding that she had been out here for awhile. And...oh, this was...something that caught Brad's attention. The shirt she wore dangled loosely from her shoulders, the hem of it stopping against the middle of her thighs.

"Is that my brother's?" Brad asked.

Breaking out of her trance, Julia faced him. "What?" 

Now that he had to say it again, embarrassment flooded Brad's cheeks. "Oh, uh, I was asking isn't that my bro's shirt? The one you're wearing?"

Her eyes popped open fully now. She looked down and folded her lips inward, shifting her foot from left to right. "Yeah. It _usually_ helps me sleep, but after today."

Brad nodded in agreement. "Yeah. After today, sleep is the last thing that's on my mind. I mean, we saw some pretty effed up stuff." He remembered seeing that two headed monster, their heads infused as if one sprouted from the other's neck. In hindsight, after discovering the Manchurian Cold for what it really was, he's glad he didn't do any damage. It could've been Alex, Conrad, Fliss, even Julia. He couldn't live with that if he had done the unimaginable.

Julia adjusted her headband, looking back towards the sea. "Actually, it's not...just about what happened on the ship." Brad noticed that she was twirling something on her finger. Whatever it was caught his eye-literally-the beam of said object striking him in it. He peered over to see that it was her engagement ring. With all the excitement, Brad had _actually_ forgotten that she'd his sister in law. He'd make sure to catalogue this adventure for her children.

"Nervous?" Brad asked, trying to assuage her fears. He clasped a hand on her shoulder.

"A little." She still fiddled with the ring, as if it were a little too tight or didn't have enough room. Brad didn't know what face he was making because when Julia turned to look at him, she tried to elaborate. "I mean, I love your brother. He's amazing. Honestly, I don't know what I'd do without him."

Scoffing, Brad crossed his arms. "Hmm. Pretty sure _he's_ supposed to say that. Alex can be a _little_ clueless. Ands I should know because...you know. Being his brother and whatnot."

This earned a small laugh from the blonde haired diver. "No, I mean, really. I don't think I could've done half the things I did when," Julia visibly shook, "we were on that floating nightmare."

"Hey, you're plenty capable on your own." He dug into his memory, trying to fish out a moment of her bravery. "As a matter of fact, Alex told me that before you wedged yourself into a pipe just to retrieve the map."

She smiled, a little smug in this one. It was better than the half grimace he witnessed earlier. "Yeah, well, one of us has to be brave. And as you know _I'm_ the expert."

Brad made a show of examining his nails, turning his hand back and forth. "Oh ok, _expert_ , is that why you uh, you know, sank a WWII fighter jet even _farther_ down to Davey Jones's locker?"

When he looked at her, he began to laugh. He had to cover his mouth so that he wouldn't wake the others that were still slumbering. Julia pointed a finger at him. "Hey. The thing was already old. Alright? It was going down anyway. _And_ we could've died, you know. We were attacked by a shark."

"It was a gray reef," he deadpanned. "Totally harmless."

"Hey, it was intense." She planted her hands on her hips. "You try staying calm with billions upon billions of water all around you with killer sharks after you."

"Gray reef."

She rolled her eyes, shoving his shoulder lightly. "Whatever."

They went silent again. Brad took another look at her ring. "You have nothing to worry about. Alex's amazing. He's loyal, smart-he's gonna be a doctor so if I were you I'd hop on that-caring, and he really loves you. I can see why. You have him wrapped around your finger."

Julia smiled faintly. "Thanks. But I'm still nervous. You'd think after tonight I wouldn't be scared of anything, but settling down with him. It's kind of scary."

In that moment, an inner itch pecked at Brad's brain. It happened when he wanted to share some information about WWII or any part of history that applied to the situation-or not. He couldn't help it. People looked at him curiously, wondering why he was telling them out of nowhere of how in WWII, the 588th regiment of women who help bombed enemy lines were named "The Night Witches" or enthusiastically informing people of The Alice Network and how women hid encrypted messages in their person to help aid French soldiers. And how was his knowledge returned? With looks of disdain or annoyance-maybe assuming that he was _trying_ to sound smart, except he truly was. He was just a history addict, bringing to light historical figures and events that the past has neglected to bring to modern light.

He already knew what Alex and Conrad thought of his ramblings. The only person that didn't treat Brad with mocking benevolence was Fliss, but aside from asking him about what got him _into_ WWII, she didn't venture any further. But what did Julia think? Well, no time like the present.

"Are you familiar with George Washington?"

Julia, looking as though he asked her if it was day or night, cocked her head. "Yeah. Dead white dude. One of the founding fathers. Guy on the one dollar bill."

"Right, yeah, you're right. But did you know he gave love advice?"

Looking more ensnared with Brad's fact, Julia crossed her arms. "Him? Giving love advice?"

Brad nodded, much so that his glasses nearly launched themselves off his eyes., "Yep. During the Revolutionary War. It was an exhilarating time period. Sometimes I wish I were apart of it. Well, um, you know except being sold away into slavery and indentured servitude. Plus malaria and smallpox, not to mention influenza." He looked at Julia, who had an amused smile on her lips. Brad shook his head. "Anyway he gave advice to Margarita Schuyler."

"Also known as Peggy, who not only aided General Philip Schuyler in writing letters to Washington, but also saved one of her nieces when their mansion was under attack by redcoats."

Oh. Wow. That was. Unexpected. Brad looked at her in amazement, as if she emerged from the water wrapped in seaweed and algae. Brad knew she was intelligent, knowing various scuba gears and collaborating with Alex about the wreckage, but he didn't think her knowledge went back even further. "How did you know that?"

"Princeton has a _wide_ selection of publications and books. I dabble. So...the advice?"

Brad shook his head. "Right. So during a celebration in the Schuyler mansion, Washington actually gave advice to her since she was always pushed to the side." He looked to see if Julia showed any signs of losing interest. She didn't. Her eyes were locked on his, nodding for him to go on. "So while playing with his niece, Washington said...oh, hold up let me do my voice." Brad gripped his shirt as if he we're grabbing onto lapels. In an old time, grandfatherly voice that belonged in a black and white film he said, "There are things a woman must ask herself before deciding to settle with a gentleman."

Julia erupted with guffawing laughter before quickly covering her mouth. Brad laughed alongside her. She regained her composure. "Ok, and what are said questions?"

"Well, there are a few. I'll start with two of them. Who exactly is this invader? Also, have I competent knowledge of him?"

"Hmm." Julia scrunched up her nose. "I don't really like the word "invader." Makes it sound like he forced his way into my life. But as for knowing Alex, I think I know enough about him to know that I'll always feel safe and needed whenever I'm with him."

"Yeah." Brad scratched his chin. "I guess "invader' is probably a bad choice of a word looking back on it. Well, two out of three ain't bad."

Julia scoffed. "Yeah. So, what are the other questions?"

Resuming his old time-y voice again, Brad continued. "Ah yes. That is the fundamental question. The next: Is he a man of good character, a man of sense? Or is he a gambler, a spendthrift, or a drunkard?" Brad felt his heart beat erratically. He didn't get to indulge in history without annoying someone else and it was liberating, just like the ideas of the Revolution.

Julia thought about the questions for a moment. "Good character, huh? Well, he _did_ kind of accuse Fliss of being in-I still can't believe he used the word "kahoots." 

Brad laughed, scratching the inside of his elbow. "Might be my fault. Some times my vernacular rubs off me and onto him through osmosis. But for accusing Fliss, you know he was just worried about us. I mean, it's understandable. Not saying it was _right_. But he really does have your best interest in mind. Along with mine's."

Sighing, Julia rapped her fingers along the railing, the sound resembling rain against metal. "Yeah. He's protective. I do like that in a guy. As long as he's not coddling me. I makemy _own_ decisions, as you know."

"Ah. Well, then you would've been a great role model during the Revolution for women, ma lady." Risking embarrassing himself, he bowed like a suitor would towards his muse in a garden of a summer home.

Julia curtsied, using Alex's t shirt as a battalion gown. "Thank you. Angelica Schuyler and I would make a killer duo, don't you think?"

"Two Thieves of Hearts? Oh, you'd two make the men tremble in their knee high boots."

Julia laughed and wrapped her arm around Brad's midsection. In return, Brad slung his arm over her shoulder. Together, they stared out at the ocean, still as if it was long ago introduced to serenity. The murkiness of the day, the hijacking of their boat, the Manchurian Gold, the pirates, the apparitions-they all subsided against the back of Brad's mind, negating into a puddle as the future began coloring in across his brain, his heart, even making the inkwell sky shine brighter.

"So? Confident?" Brad asked, looking down at her.

"Mmm. A little. It's something I need to work on, but you put it into great perspective, professor." She looked up at him. "But you know what I just realized now?"

"That Alex is in trouble for a verbal put down if he disrespects you in any way? Which I'll say will _never_ happen." He said with his eyebrow quirked.

"That. And also," she reached up and ruffled his symmetrical afro, "I realize that I have the smartest, caring brother in law in the world." 

Brad's heart swelled, lobbing up and down like the buoys separating deep water from the shallow. He rubbed at his eyes, fearing that his masculinity would come into question. But then he realized who he was with. He let the tears brim over his eyes, the droplets falling like sugar crystals at his bare feet. He hugged his soon to be sister in law, as if she were a mast of a great ship braving the Atlantic Ocean.

"Thanks, Julia." He sniffled and cleared his throat. "Same goes for you."

"Hey. It's _Jules_." She poked him in the side, causing him to laugh. "You're family now."

"Alright...Jules."

Before separating, Julia grabbed Brad's arm. "Since you know about the Schuyler sisters, I assume you saw the play?"

"Nah. Not me. More of a...book...kind of...guy?" Shifting his eyes from left to right, Brad saw Julia scrutinizing him as if he was the Devil himself who hurled himself out of the Thames. 

Julia pointed a finger in his chest. "When we get home. I'm taking you to see it. As a matter of fact." Whipping out her phone, she began typing furiously. When Brad tried to speak, she held a finger up to his mouth. Her phone started emitting music of different varieties, hip hop and R&B that told the story of Alexander Hamilton. For the more somber songs, "Who Lives Who Dies" and "Stay Alive" they sat and listened, even crying at parts. But songs that held exuberance and uncaged adulation, they danced. Brad shimmied his shoulders along with Julia to "The Schuyler Sisters and millie rocked to "Take A Break" when Philip began rapping. He could get used to the musicality of history. It showed a more humanistic side to the past that revealed their truths that textbooks couldn't say.

Before they parted, they hugged, telling each other goodnight and sweet, palpable dreams that would make them forget about the events. Before heading into his own hut, Julia called out to him. "Brad!"

"Yeah?"

"Tomorrow. I'm buying you shoes, dude!"

Brad laughed. He'd take her up on _that_ offer.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! I've recently been listening to the Hamilton soundtrack as well as finishing Hamilton and Peggy, a novelization of Alexander Hamilton and Peggy Schuyler's friendship during the Revolutionary War. Go read it! And thanks for reading this!


End file.
